Thank You
by Richefic
Summary: A tag to the season 5.07 episode "Requiem" My final NCIS story as my own thank you to all my readers and reviewers.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - If I owned them this scene would have been in the show.

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Funny, how Tony hadn't noticed how cold it was today earlier.

Even as the warmth of joy and gratitude flooded through his veins just knowing that Gibbs and Maddie were alive, Tony understood that he wasn't exactly at his best. His lungs burned, his muscles were beginning to shake from a mixture of exhaustion, adrenalin and relief, and the cold, murky, waters of the Potomac had saturated his clothes. Part of his brain figured that he should probably be worried, but all he cared about was that Gibbs and Maddie were breathing unaided. And whilst talking was understandably beyond either of them for the moment, Tony had seen enough signs of recall, recognition and motor function between them to hope there had been no serious damage done due to the temporary lack of oxygen.

It was _really_ cold

Despite his chattering teeth and encroaching exhaustion Tony forced himself to look up as the screech of tyres cut through the pounding of blood in his ears. Recognising the cars and the emerging occupants, even at this distance, he didn't even try to reach for his gun. Looking across at his discarded weapon laying on the concrete he doubted he could have reached it in time, even if his life had depended on it. As feet began to swarm around him he realised he was no longer shivering. He remembered Gibbs telling him once that was not a good sign.

"Gibbs is alive," Ziva called out. "The girl as well."

"Calling an ambulance," McGee's voice responded, sounding like he was moving around closer to the building. "These two are dead."

"Tony?" Ziva's voice asked from above him. "Are you alright?"

"Just p-peachy." Tony managed

"Ziva, get him a blanket, McGee, we'll need a second Ambulance," Jenny's voice was crisp with authority. "And don't even think about arguing with me, DiNozzo. Gibbs won't thank you for saving him if you end up killing yourself in the process."

Tony stilled as her words hit home and didn't protest as a blanket was wrapped around him. Would Gibbs' actually thank him for saving him? Suddenly Tony wasn't at all sure about that. He had been saying for years that the ex-marine had a death wish. Maybe, all he really wanted was to be re-uinted with his family. Tony hissed in a breath through his abused windpipe. Looking down, he saw Gibbs, was now covered with Jenny's long wool coat, across from him Maddie was tucked under Ziva's jacket, neither of then had moved. Gibbs' face looked more drawn and old than Tony had ever seen it. Trying to fight the increasing feeling of unease that Jenny's words had sparked, he felt an almost desperate urge to connect with the older man, a need for reassurance that he had done the right thing.

"Boss?" He rasped.

At first, he didn't think Gibbs had heard him, then slowly he rolled his head towards him and Tony just had the briefest glimpse of the deep grief, pain and loss, in those expressive blue eyes, before the Paramedics were upon them. A whirl of questions, probing and invasive procedures blocked Tony's view as he tried in vain to crane his neck around all the activity to make eye contact with the ex-marine. A second set of medics descended on him, hampering his movements even further. Frustrated, his tried to protest as Gibbs was loaded onto a gurney, but he couldn't get the words out from under the oxygen mask pushed onto his face.

"No wait," He struggled to his feet, pushing the mask aside. "Boss!"

But his thin raspy voice was carried away by the light winds coming in off the water. The medical personnel didn't so much as pause in their task of loading the silver-haired recumbent figure into the waiting Ambulance. Tony closed his eyes as he slumped back onto the dock, a growing feeling of guilt and unease taking the edge off his relief. He closed his eyes, remembering the terror he had felt as he had literally held his Boss' life in his hands. The way he had fought harder than he ever had in his whole life to bring the man back to the land of the living.

"_Don't do this to me, Boss."_

All the way to the Hospital the line replayed itself in his head. Each time it sounded more needy and selfish than the last. He changed into the blue Hospital pyjamas without comment and endured being poked and prodded within an inch of his life by Brad with barely a murmur, as Nurse Emma inserted the IV with a cocktail of antibiotics, and who knew what else, into his arm. He was wheeled to ICU for observation, which at best was not good and at worst was a one-way ticket to the next stop on the line. Tony pressed his lips together as he looked around the room and tried not to think too hard about the last time he had been here.

He didn't want to die.

Despite everything that had happened in his life he had always been a glass half full kind of guy. He liked it here. Well, not here, as in here in the Hospital, but here as in, the land of the living. He had no plans on checking out anytime soon. Or ever, if he was really honest about it, even though he knew that wasn't really an option. Which made it just DiNozzo luck that he had ended up back here in Bethesda again with a set of lungs full of gunk. At least, this time they had skipped the blue light special in isolation but everything else was really much too eerily familiar.

_Oh crap. Here it comes._

The tickle in the back of his throat blossomed into a barking hack, fierce enough to make his eyes water. This was so not good. Reaching out blindly Tony groped first for the glass of water on the side table only to hear approaching footsteps, before a steadying hand was placed on his shoulder and the glass pressed to his lips, allowing him to drink his fill.

"Thanks, Ducky." He managed.

"No thanks necessary, my dear boy," Dr Mallard's cultured voice advised him. "It is I who should apologise for not calling in to see you before now but I have been rather busy dealing with those two gentlemen you sent me."

"Sorry," Tony made a face, thinking of the two bad guys he had dispatched on the run. Since they had NCIS bullets inside them Ducky would have to sign off on their autopsies. "I didn't mean to add to your workload."

"Given the choice I would much rather be extracting your bullets from their bodies than the obvious alternatives," Mallard assured him. "I have no wish to perform your autopsy or that of our dear Jethro's any time soon, nor indeed that of such a promising young woman."

"How's Maddie doing?"

"Considerably better than she would have been without your timely intervention, my dear boy. She is resting now and they will keep her under observation tonight, but I do believe she will be released in the morning."

"Good, that's good." Tony nodded.

Mallard frowned slightly at the ensuing silence. He'd fully expected that the first question Tony would ask would be about Gibbs. Instead, the younger man was now uncharacteristically silent. Indeed, he seemed to be actively avoiding any eye contact, in an deliberate attempt to inhibit any further conversation, as he shifted awkwardly in the bed.

"Ziva and McGee send their best, and Abigail, of course," He continued. "They asked me to tell you that they will be over to visit as soon as they can. I do believe they and the Director are engaged in some rather fancy foot work to save Jethro's career from suffering the fallout of his latest folly."

"Right."

"And Jethro is also on the road to recovery," Mallard persevered. "He was not best pleased to be told he would be required to stay overnight as you can well imagine. But even he must face the unpalatable fact that he is not in fact invincible. But I see no reason why he won't be released tomorrow."

"That's great." Tony nodded again.

Mallard's eyes narrowed. He was already all too well aware that Anthony was particularly skilled at obfuscation and had almost built a career from masking his feelings. It was one of the things that made him excel at undercover work. It also made him rather infuriating at times.

"Anthony." He pressed gently.

He didn't miss how the unexpected kindness made the younger man wince. Indeed, he had anticipated the reaction. In the years that they had known each other he had learnt that caring and compassion cut through the poor boy's defences like a scalpel. Sure enough, pressing his lips together, Tony capitulated, at least a little.

"I thought he might have stopped by. You know," Tony forced a too bright smile. "Just to check I'm alive."

"He hasn't been to see you?" Mallard frowned. "That doesn't sound like Jethro."

"Have you actually seen him? Are you sure he's OK?"

A look of anxiety flashed across DiNozzo's face, as he straightened up, only to have his expression twist as the sharp intake of breath, followed by the sudden movement triggered another bout of coughing.

"My dear boy, you really must try not to excite yourself." Mallard's voice counselled, even as he actually mopped his fevered brow.

Tony lay miserably still under his ministrations, for the moment lacking the strength to even think up one of his trade mark quips. Then sliding just his eyes towards the MD he summoned all his tenacity and determination to force out a single word. "Gibbs?"

"I stopped by his room on my way in. As usual, Jethro was being rather difficult about following the nursing regime. But he was able to make it to the bathroom under his own steam and was being rather vocal about requiring real food. I assure you he is quite well, given the circumstances," Mallard pressed his lips together. "Physically, at least."

"The man misses his old life," Tony managed, weakly displaying the depth of compassion that was one of his most redeeming qualities. "Looking at Maddie must have been like coming face to face with what should have been."

"Jethro will find his way. He always does," Mallard was confident. "To my mind you are rather more of a concern."

"Me?" Tony had the art or the innocence to look genuinely surprised, even as he summoned all his willpower to rally his remaining strength. "I'm fine, Ducky. You shouldn't be worrying about me."

"I think that is my privilege," Mallard rebuked, not unkindly, as he absently patted his shoulder. "And putting aside the fact that you dove into freezing, less than sanitary, water and still found the physical and mental strength to rescue not one but two people, without hesitation, despite knowing full well what the personal consequences might be .."

"I'm fine," Tony insisted again. "Brad has already checked me out. I'm being pumped full of the best antibiotics modern medicine has to offer. I'll be good to go by the end of the week."

"You'll forgive me if I don't take your word for that," Ducky gave him a level look. "But I was rather thinking of your present mood. For a man who was something of a hero this afternoon you do seem rather downcast."

"You know how much I hate Hospitals," Tony made a face. "They won't even let me order in Pizza."

"Anthony." Mallard frowned a warning.

"Have you been taking lessons from Gibbs? Because you've almost got the tone down just right, although the glare could still use a little work." Tony smiled a little too brightly.

"At times like this, it is not difficult to see why Jethro considers a head slap such an affective means of guidance." The older man said pointedly.

Tony sighed and looked away, one hand worrying slightly at the blanket on the bed. The silence stretched out for a few minutes as he gathered his thoughts, but then softly, hesitantly, the words came, as Mallard's patience was eventually rewarded.

"If I had to do it all over again, I would. Even knowing, it would cost me a week in the Hospital and another round of fitness evaluations. I don't even care that I ruined another suit or that I'm going to have to find some way to explain to IA what the hell we were all doing out there in the first place. The only thing I cared about was getting Gibbs and Maddie out alive."

"And I am sure that as soon as a suitable opportunity presents itself, Jethro will want to express his gratitude for your exertions on his behalf." Mallard's tone was resolute.

"Yeah." Tony wasn't agreeing.

"You don't think so?" Mallard frowned.

"I couldn't loose him, Ducky," Tony's expression was taunt with a pain that Mallard had rarely seen the younger man allow himself to express. "I don't want to imagine what my life would be without him. Looking at his body there on the docks, there was no way I was going to give up on him I really didn't want him to die. But I'm not at all sure he really wanted to live."


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Tony regretted his own weaknesses. He shouldn't be burdening the ME with his problems. He didn't blame the other man for making his excuses and leaving as soon as possible. Left alone in the lengthening shadows of the day, he sank back into the pillows, feeling uncharacteristically despondent. He had never seen Gibbs look so stricken as he before on the dock. Tony was honestly wondering if the ex-marine would ever be able to forgive him for saving his life.

Rota was looking pretty damned good about now.

He sighed, only realising his mistake, when the breath rattled in his chest and a feeling of irritation began to build in the back of his throat. Desperately, he tried to breathe through his nose in an attempt to stave off the inevitable, but the irritation only increased. He tried huffing out small breaths through his mouth, but he already knew it was futile. This was going to be _really,_ bad. As the cough rose and built, its hacking pain engulfed his whole body, he fumbled uselessly for the call button, desperately trying to see past the dark spots that swam across his vision. The sound of someone hurrying towards his bedside was a blessed relief.

Tony prayed to any Gods that might be listening that whoever it was knew what the hell they were doing. There was a knack to loosening the gunk gathering in his lungs and he really didn't feel up to be pointlessly pummelled by someone who hadn't been through plague 101. His fears proved unfounded as firm hand seized his shoulder easing him forward as knuckles ghosted expertly down his spine, coming to a halt in just the right spot, before lifting off to deliver a series of sharp blows with the heel of the hand, helping Tony to expel the congestion in his lungs into the bowl which had magically materialised in front of him.

Oh yeah, that was the way to do it.

Even so, it was a full minute before he could speak again.

"Thanks, Boss."

"Could hear you hacking clear down the hallway," Gibbs retorted, his tone almost accusatory. "Dr Pitt told me you hadn't done any real damage."

"You saw him? He spoke to you about me?" Tony blinked.

Gibbs only response to that was one of his more eloquent looks, the one that said quite clearly, _you're an idiot, DiNozzo. _Tony considered that. Sure, Gibbs was still his next of kin and Brad knew all too well from past experience how the ex-marine liked to be kept in the loop. Tony even had the sneaking suspicion that his friend had made more than the occasional call about his health to his Boss behind his back. He didn't really mind. It was nice to know they had his six.

"Are you OK?" Tony needed to know.

"Doc's given me a clean bill of health," Gibbs nodded, exactly as if he wasn't standing there in Hospital issue pyjamas and dressing gown. "They are going to let me out tomorrow."

"Boss," This time Tony remembered not to sigh. "I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you sorry for, DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded. "None of this mess was your fault."

"Back there on the dock," Tony tried to explain. "I didn't think you were going to make it. I thought that maybe. you din't want ..."

His words were cut off as his rising emotions caused his breathing to hitch. Casting a desperate look at his Boss, he failed to still the rising cough, until he battle between a need to deal with the infection building in his lungs and the absolutely necessity of sucking in enough oxygen consumed his whole body. He could feel his chest burn as his body fought to heal itself, Gibbs deft touch nursing him through the worst of it, until he fell limply back against the pillows, sore and utterly spent, covered with a sheen of sweat.

"Aw hell DiNozzo," He heard Gibbs murmur, even as he reached for the ever present napkins and the bowl of cool water, wringing it out, before wiping the blood from his lips. It felt nice. Like a father tending to a child. Summoning the energy to meet Gibbs's gaze his was silenced with a look. "Not a word."

"I saved Maddie first because I knew you would never forgive me if I let your daughter's best die," For once, Tony ignored him, his voice little more than a whisper in his weakened state. "But I fought you for because I needed you to live. And then I saw the look in your eyes and realised how selfish that was. Hell, you don't owe this world anything. You've paid your dues time and over again."

"So you just let me go?" Gibbs asked

"You miss them." Tony said simply.

"Every damned day," Gibbs agreed. "But I'm also a stubborn bastard, and I'm not about walk away from something I started before it's good and finished, figured you would have learnt that about me by now."

"But you caught the guys who were after Maddie." Tony's brow furrowed in confusion.

"_We_ caught 'em," Gibbs corrected. "But that wasn't what I meant."

Tony looked at his expectant expression and tried to anticipate what his Boss wanted him to say. Maybe, it was the meds, or just plain exhaustion muddling his thinking but he couldn't think of anything.

"You have some cold case from way back I don't know about Boss?" He hazarded.

"Try again." Gibbs nudged, with unusual patience, even though his expression gave nothing away. This was obviously something he wanted he senior field Agent to figure out for himself.

"Um," Tony thought hard. "Did you start another boat?"

"You tell me, DiNozzo," The corner of Gibbs mouth quirked slightly upwards. "I reckoned you knew all about this particular project. It's always been pretty 'hands on'."

Gibbs looked at him as if his words should jog something free. Tony racked his brain, but he had no idea what the ex-marine was talking about. He suspected his Boss took his grimace of frustration for a wince of pain because his eyes narrowed with concern and a cool hand claimed his forehead, one thumb caressing his temple.

"You're pretty sick, huh?" Gibbs looked at him fondly.

"Oh."

Realisation hit Tony like a shower of warmth and he went pink with pleasure as he finally understood he was the project Gibbs had been talking about. He knew he should tell Gibbs he didn't need to stick around for his sake. But he remembered exactly how he had felt on that dock with his Boss' life in his hands and he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he gave a sheepish smile.

"I haven't always got it right with you," Gibbs admitted gruffly. "I know that."

"But you've always tried," Tony absolved him. "And I don't make it easy."

"The problem with you DiNozzo is you are too busy looking out for other people to take proper care of yourself."

"Hey, you were the one who went off without backup to save the day." Tony pointed out.

"Yeah and look where it got me," Gibbs reminded him. "I almost got us both killed and Maddie too."

He was furious at himself. He knew he could never have forgiven himself if he had caused Maddie's death. Not to mention the fact that DiNozzo could easily have died today, shot by one of those goons. Still could, if this damned disease took a tighter hold on him.

"My Boss always says almost only counts in horse shoes and hand grenades," Tony reminded him. "And I understand why you did what you did. I know how much you still love Kelly."

Gibbs smiled at his use of the present tense. Of the few people who knew about his daughter most talked about how much he must have loved her. It was rare for them to comprehend that never changed. He loved her today as fiercely as he ever had when she was alive. But then DiNozzo had always had a way of understanding him.

"Good parents love all their kids." Gibbs pointed out.

Looking down at the younger man he noticed the lines of pain and exhaustion had deepened around his eyes, even as the words brought a smile to his lips. That dammed cough might have abated some but DiNozzo was still too weak to have any real stamina. So when Tony opened his mouth to reply to that, Gibbs quietened him with a look, before reaching out to lower the head of the bed slightly.

"Get some rest, Tony. We'll finish this when you're feeling stronger."

"Boss, it's OK," Tony assured him. "You don't need to say any more. I know how you feel."

"Sometimes these things bear saying," Gibbs reminded him.

Turning on his heel to return to his own bed he decided that there was one thing that needed saying which couldn't wait. God willing he would get many more chances to say it, but the ex-marine knew enough about the cruel twists of fate not to be willing to take that risk ever again. He wouldn't apologise for getting DiNozzo mixed up in all of this that was too much of an insult to the man's loyalty and sense of justice. But there was something else.

"Hey DiNozzo," He waited until the younger man looked at him, wanting to convey by both tone and expression the depth of his sincerity. "Thank you."

Tony slept soundly after that. His body taking the rest it so badly needed to recuperate, so much so that he dozed right through Ziva and McGee's visit and even Abby's presence wasn't enough to rouse him. When he finally blinked awake several hours later it was broad daylight and his room was filled with cards and presents. Looking around at the balloons, DVDs, Magazines and candy Tony's eyes were drawn to a small, oblong, box on his night stand.

He recognised that box.

It and several others like it had lived in the bottom draw of his desk for as long as he had worked for Gibbs. Wanting to be sure he reached over and picked up the box. The weight felt about right. His heart in his mouth he opened the box to see the meritorious service award nestled inside, Gibbs' meritorious service award to be exact. Tony was awed by the gesture. They both new that the cover up required to disguise the fact that Gibbs' had gone off grid would mean that his actions today could never be formally recognised. But to Tony's mind this gesture had far greater value. With a smile, Tony closed the box and hunkered back down to get some more rest, his hand curved protectively around the box as he clutched it to his chest.

"Thanks, Boss," He murmured. "For everything."

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AN- Well, that it folks, its been an amazing journey - thank you to all who have read and reviewed - but as I've explained in my profile I won't be writing any more stories.


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